Waking Up
by Lariren-Shadow
Summary: After a night of festivities, Lothiriel wakes to the morning to come.


**A/N**: I came up with this at about 1 am this morning, I think I many have and a dream like it.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own these people, though I wish I did own Éomer. Sadly Tolkien does, and AOL/Time Warner has a lease on the characters as well.

**Dedication**: To **_Karys_**, cause she always reads my stuff and I am a bad person and don't have time to read hers. And no, that's not her username; I believe it is **Evanescent Dawn**.

Lothíriel stirred in bed. She did not want to wake because she could already feel the headache that a result of last nights festivities. _Yes_ she thought _last night, oh how did my glass always seem to be full?_ Lothíriel had never really drank that much in her life, but last night seemed to be different. Maybe that was how things were in the Meduseld, at least when they were having a going away feast for Éowyn after her visit back, with her new husband Faramir.

Lothíriel had been to the Meduseld before, and had met Éomer before, and something had happened between them that neither could explain. She had almost insisted that she was allowed to go back, and her cousin going was the perfect excuse to do so. So Lothíriel went with Faramir and Éowyn, and her brother Amrothos, for her safety, to Edoras for a stay.

Lothíriel and Éomer had spent most of his free time together, and he seemed to have a copious amount of it for being a king. Neither had, however, said anything of their affections to the other. It was plain to everyone around them that they were in love, and Faramir, Éowyn, and Amrothos were getting tired of the two not saying anything.

So, last night, they had made sure that the two were not out of each others sights, and that they were both very inebriated. None of the three, albeit, thought of hormones or to not have the two of them be the last to leave the festivities.

And after that state of affairs, Lothíriel found herself with the beginnings of a hangover, and not wanting to move. She groaned and rolled over, and hit something. She tried to push it, but then realized it was bigger than her. _And breathing_. Lothíriel sat bolt up right at that thought. She quickly lay back down though, her head spinning from the sudden movement. Her eyes tried to focus on the person next to her, but it all seemed to blurry.

She closed her eyes again. Surly this was all just a dream, maybe if she went back to sleep, she would wake up in her bed, yet still with the same hangover. She tried to pull the blankets over herself, and almost got most of them, until they were pulled back. So she was in, as far as she could remember, Éomer's chambers.

Lothíriel tried to remember the events of the night before. There was ale and wine, lots of those things. She had always found herself with Éomer, and he had also always had a glass of something in his hand. Then things got fuzzy, they kissed, a lot. Then everyone had left the hall, and there was more kissing. Éomer had suggested that Lothíriel return to her chambers, but they could not find them. There had been something about Éomer being able to find his way anywhere once he was at his chambers, and then... Lothíriel blushed at the thought. Had she really done that? She could remember Éomer saying he loved her, and she said she loved him back and then. She had to get up, and make it back to her chambers before anyone noticed.

Éomer stirred beside her and opened his eyes. He turned and looked at Lothíriel, and then took in the implications of Lothíriel being there.

Lothíriel was the first to speak, though it did take a little more energy then she hoped. "What happened last night? Why did you let me come in?"

"As I recall, I did not let you in, you were the one who began this with your kissing me. Though I do not complain." Éomer said, sitting up to look at Lothíriel. This was the banter they usually used when they were talking. Nonetheless this was not a time for this talk.

"Well we have to do something, I need to get to my room before anyone notices or, oh yelling hurts my head." Lothíriel put a hand to her head instead of finishing her implication. "We should do something, but not at the moment I think that moving would not be a bad idea, or anything that requires thinking." Lothíriel moaned again and tried to curl up into a ball.

"Stay where you are, you're only going to feel worse if you move." Éomer said in what would have been a commanding voice, if it were not for the fact he was whispering. "I know of a remedy to help ease some of the pain. And there is something else that I want to get you." Éomer grabbed his breeches that lay close to the bed and got up. Lothíriel covered herself, as a way to keep out any light and anyone from seeing her.

She heard the door open and close, still not sure whether to move or not. She decided that if she were to retain any dignity for today, she should at least get dress. She peered over the blankets and saw her clothes on the floor, near the bottom of the bed. Lothíriel wrapped herself in one of the blankets and was about to move, very slowly, to grab her clothes, when she heard the door open. As fast as her body would let her she got back on to the bed, still wrapped in the blanket.

Éomer came in with a glass full of something Lothíriel did not want to know. He walked over and handed her the glass, after she sat up. Lothíriel sniffed it, then made a face, but knew that she had to drink it. When the taste hit her mouth, she almost gagged.

"What is this stuff?" Lothíriel said coughing, though feeling a little better.

"Something to help with the effects of the amount of you drank last night." Éomer sat on the bed in front of Lothíriel. He took a deep breath, and then, seeming to make up his mind about something, looked into her eyes. "Lothíriel, I don't know how to say this, I...would..." He trailed off. Facing the forces of Mordor he could do, but this was harder, and took more courage.

"You would what? Éomer, what are you saying? I should get out of your chambers, so please finish what you are going to say before time runs out." Her eyes were pleading him to let her leave or at least finish what he had to say.

"Lothíriel, I love you." There was a pause. Lothíriel was taken aback. Though he had said that last night, the words were still new to Lothíriel. "Would you wed me? I have loved you since I meet you, though always thought you did not. Do not feel the need to say yes, for I would understand if you did not want to." Éomer looked into her eyes, and took her hand and placed a gold ring on her finger. It had two horses on it, in-between them was a diamond.

Lothíriel sat there, in shock. All she could do was look at her hand, trying to think of words to respond. "Yes, Éomer, yes. I have loved you too, and had not the courage to speak of it." She launched herself into his arms. Just then there was a knock at the door. Lothíriel sprung up and grabbed her clothes, and went to the closet. Éomer went to the door. He opened it to reveal his sister.

"I know she is in here Éomer." Éowyn said sternly, coming in. "I would suggest that she leave with me, although her going home might be in question now, if you know how to act." Éowyn said with a smile. Lothíriel peered out of the closet and emerged, fully dress, to greet Éowyn. Éowyn took notice of the ring on Lothíriel's finger.

"I see you did. It took you both long enough to know each others feelings. I think Amrothos will not be pleased with this, losing his only sister and all, yet he will be happy with the fact that you two finally said something. Lothíriel, you should act as if I brought you here this morning and try as hard as you can to get back to your chambers before Amrothos, or even Faramir notice. And Faramir is not awake yet." Éowyn said, coming in and grabbing Lothíriel's hand. On her way out. Lothíriel stopped to kiss Éomer, before being dragged out of the room.

A month later the two wed in Edoras.

A/N: Yes engagements, in medieval times could only last a month. And I looked it up in this encyclopedia that my school has. Please review!


End file.
